Ghosts of Christmas Past
by CrazyKitten2112
Summary: Johanna Mason hates Christmas, but she has a good reason. Find out what it is in this holiday one shot. This also gives some back story to that line about Prim in Catching Fire where Johanna talked about how much the capitol loved her with a resentful tone. Part of my 12 drabbles of Christmas series. Rated T for safety. I don't own the Hunger Games. Please read and review!


**A/N: This is part of my "12 Drabbles of Christmas" series. I have twelve favorite book characters and I'm going to write a Christmas drabble about every one of them. Here's the schedule:**

**Dec. 13: Johanna Mason from The Hunger Games**

**Dec. 14: Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter**

**Dec. 15: Edilio Escobar from Gone **

**Dec. 16: Dekka Talent from Gone**

**Dec. 17: Jack Merridew from Lord of the Flies**

**Dec. 18: Penny from Gone**

**Dec. 19: Ezylryb from Guardians of Ga'Hoole**

**Dec. 20: Angel from Maximum Ride**

**Dec. 21: Alice Cullen from Twilight**

**Dec. 22: Hazel Levesque from The Heroes of Olympus**

**Dec. 23: Caine Soren from Gone**

**Dec. 24: Diana Ladris form Gone**

I walked into the extravagant Capitol Party. There were people laughing, singing, drinking eggnog, and kissing under the mistletoe which was hanging from every panel of the ceiling. I quickly plotted out a route that could get me to the back corner without getting kissed, and then I executed it. My scarlet ball gown dropped some of the tacky emerald decals as I walked, but I figured I still looked just as "good" with 999,999 of them still intact.

I found my place next to the gigantic Christmas tree. It was covered with baubles of all shapes, sizes and colors. The branches were weighed down with so much fake snow that it looked more like a giant marshmallow than a tree. Then again, it hardly looked like a tree at all, being it was made out shimmering crimson PVC plastic. It even hard fiber optic tips on the end of the needles, just to make it even more unrealistic.

"Isn't it a beautiful tree?" a muscular, pale skinned man with ice blue hair asked me. He was wearing nothing but a white, floor length fur coat.

"Yes, but personally I prefer the real trees," I replied.

"Oh you, District 7-ers. You love your messy trees. I'd get one two if they came in white…or blue…and they didn't shed needles," the Capitolite replied.

"Get a Frasier. Those have really strong needles."

"Ooh, goody! Do they come in the colors I requested?"

"No, they just come in green."

"Then I think I'll pass. It's been absolutely miraculous talking to you, though!"

"Bah humbug," I muttered as the man walked off.

I almost never willingly went to the Capitol, but Christmas was my one exception. I had too many memories back in District 7. Capitol Christmases were fake, overly-commercialized, and totally devoid of any real emotion. I usually hated those things about the Capitol, but on Christmas Eve I usually didn't want to feel anything. When I was in the Capitol there were banquet halls loaded with people to keep me from crying. At home, only I could stop the tears.

I don't like crying, not even in the privacy of my own home. So, I never do. It's as simple as that. Around the holidays it gets hard to keep that up. It's not because I'm one of those people who gets all mushy around the holidays. It's about my little sister. Her name was Noelle. She had curly, earthy brown hair and my mother's emerald green eyes. She was a bit prettier than me and a lot more popular at school than I was. Sometimes I was even a little bit jealous of her, but I'm not really the jealous type.

She was well behaved and innocent, I loved to make her squirm. Afterwards, she'd get me in trouble. Then we'd act cold towards each other for the rest of the day. A few days later we'd laugh about it like a joke. The cycle would repeat over and over again. It was our strange way of expressing our love.

The only reason I had started messing with her in the first place because I was worried for her. I knew that the Hunger Games would eat her alive if she got reaped, so I tried to toughen her up. All my toughening wasn't enough, though. When she was twelve years old, President Snow ordered her and my entire family to be killed. Why? Because I refused to let him turn me into a sex slave. I would love to tell the Capitol that, but all I can do is fight back tears and pretend like I'm having a merry Christmas.


End file.
